


First Rule of a Fight

by The_Plaid_Slytherin



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Earth 2.0, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-17 17:56:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1397137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Plaid_Slytherin/pseuds/The_Plaid_Slytherin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Forced to work together, Saul and Gaius come to an understanding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Rule of a Fight

Saul had wanted nothing more from Earth than to be able to settle down with Bill and frak all day. But no, they'd had to get domestic. And they'd had to move into one of the little communal farm deals—two houses on a plot of field. 

Caprica he didn't mind sharing with. Despite everything that had happened, she didn't blame him. In fact, he quite considered her a friend. She and Bill had taken well to each other, too; he was teaching her to cook with Tauron spices when he wasn't teaching the kids. 

Saul and Baltar hadn't connected in quite the same way. 

"What are you doing?" 

Saul dropped his bag of seeds. "Beans and potatoes, together, like you said."

Baltar crossed his arms over his chest. "Where's your rosemary?" 

"Rosemary," Saul repeated. 

"We're going to add rosemary. It'll help protect the beans. But you need the beans and potatoes together for the nitrogen fixation to occur." 

Saul's face went blank. 

"Beans and potatoes," he repeated. "You add the rosemary." He fumbled for the bag dangling from his belt and detached it. 

"Colonel, I'm pacing out the plot."

"Wandering around is what you're doing. Do some actual work." Saul bent to pick up his seeds again and then headed down the row. 

"I daresay I'm more qualified to do this than you. I grew up on a farm."

"Yeah, and what? Split when you were eighteen?" 

"Yes, well, my father still taught me everything he knew, so I know quite a bit even though my practical application of it all is lacking." 

"Aerilon, huh? From the grain belt, I'd expect. You know, you never struck me as a farm boy." 

"Well, that's what I am." Baltar took a step, scattered the rosemary. "Farm boy, through and through." His voice was slipping into an Aerilon accent.

Well, two could play at that game. "Well, I'm not a farm boy," Saul drawled, forcing the accent. "Not too many farms down south where the sand's red. Nothing for my dad to teach me but what it feels like to get cracked on the head with a tankard of ale." 

"You do have fun keeping on with it, don't you?" Baltar went on, back to the cultivated city accent. "But you're not from Aerilon, are you? You're from Earth, that first Earth." 

"I'm from Aerilon," Saul grit out. 

"You are not!" Baltar cried, sounding like an arguing child. "Who knows what you grew up with. Certainly not farming!" 

"How do you know?" 

"I don't, but you don't either." 

Saul scowled and dropped his seed bag. "Yeah, but I've got as much practical experience as you do." 

"Childhood chores! Theoretical lessons! That's more than can be said for you, if you've had any sort of book learning." 

"Well, you sure can't learn to strip a Viper from a textbook," Saul muttered.

"I'm sure I could strip a Viper," said Baltar. "If they let you do it." 

"I'll have you know I was top eight of my class at OCS." 

"And that was what, a class of eight?"

Saul lunged for him. His fist connected with Baltar's jaw, but he only had half a second to enjoy it before he was met with blinding pain. The little frakker had kneed him in the nuts. 

Saul dropped to the dirt, letting out a stream of curses. Bill came out of the house to see what was the matter, all of his school pupils fanned out around him, eyes big as saucers. 

The pain had not passed until Saul ceased to be interesting and the children had filed back inside. 

Baltar leaned in over him. "I'm sorry. That looked dreadful. I've never actually gotten to do it to anyone." 

Saul let his arms flop out spread-eagle. He wasn't quite ready to get back up. "Why would you do it in the first place?" 

"That was theoretical learning. First rule of a fight, go for the nuts." Baltar sat down next to Saul. "The trouble is they always came in pairs." 

"One to hold you down, one to beat you up?" Baltar nodded, and Saul sat up. 

"I never hit anybody smaller than me," he said. "Anybody else was fair game." 

"Because of your father?" 

Saul wiped his eye. "Yeah. Because of my father." 

"Well," Baltar said, standing up, "I won't go into the validity or lack thereof of those memories. I suppose it's the sentiment that counts." He offered Saul his hand. "There's a little pub in the village run by a bloke from back home. You want to hit it up sometime?" 

Saul grabbed his sack of seeds. "Love to."


End file.
